


Kindred Spirits

by irishwoodkern



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:27:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26815096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishwoodkern/pseuds/irishwoodkern
Summary: Mando travels to Falcon, a backwater planet, to hunt down and capture the Shadow, a deadly assassin. When he finds her, he discovers more than he bargained for. A mysterious group of armed women are collecting others like them. And they need Mando's help.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	Kindred Spirits

The Mandalorian saw the planet’s surface approaching from the cockpit window. He sighed. Even from this distance he could see that it was a shithole. It was a minor planet – class E – almost a moon. Most of it was desert, but there were marshlands and swamps at either pole. Not the prettiest place, and a backwater in every sense. For that reason, it had become home to slavers and fugitives from the far corners of the galaxy. Even during the time of the Empire, it had been a lawless planet. Its name was Orchid VI, and to the Mandalorian, it felt like the furthest he had ever travelled.

The Child was sleeping as he scanned the planet for centres of occupation, geology and abnormal weather patterns. He had thoroughly researched the place when he took on the job, but he always liked to check things out while still off-world. If there was anything he hated, it was surprises. 

He knew that his quarry had been sighted in Falcon. It had taken a lot of research to discover its history. Falcon was a tiny settlement founded a century before by missionaries and a foolhardy few who tried to breed Khadaroks as beasts of burden. It was now a haven for smugglers, gangsters and assassins to hide out and evade detection. Most of them were wise enough not to tangle with a Mandalorian. He counted on that fact, because, from what he had learned, his bounty would be dangerous enough on her own.

It was a risky mission, according to his contact – a dwarfish man named Blue – but the reward was proportionate, and would suffice to fix the damage to his armour and buy him some much needed supplies. The Child was growing fast and and eating his weight in food every week, it seemed. He had been obliged to lie low for months since his battle with Gideon, but necessity had forced him to seek work outside of the Guild. 

The woman’s name was Oma Shretyl, a notorious assassin sometimes known as the Shadow. Her favoured weapons were the specially-crafted needles which she coated in a deadly poison called the Desert Flame. The death was agonising, and she planned and executed her kills with merciless efficiency. King or pauper, they said that once you were marked for killing, you might as well dig your own grave. There was nowhere in the galaxy where she would not find you.

“Do not underestimate this woman,” Blue had said. “She is as deadly as she is beautiful.” 

What she was doing in this hole was a mystery to him, but he felt prepared to bring back his prize and claim a generous reward.

He landed near a rocky outcrop at the outskirts of the town, checked his weapons one more time and planned his approach. The Child was still slumbering, reminding the Mandalorian that he could not delay. The town was busy, as the law-abiding townsfolk went about their daily lives, trading, crafting and repairing. The routine of any world. So used to the criminal element amongst them, they barely gave him a second glance as he approached the furthest house on the main street, the one Blue had identified as Oma’s hideout.  
He prepared himself mentally, stilling his mind as he guessed what moves she might make. The most important thing was to keep her away from her needle-gun – the weapon she used to discharge her poisoned darts.

The Mandalorian heard her before he saw her. A woman’s voice singing, clear as any bell, rose above the mid-afternoon breeze that wafted through the street. It was almost hypnotic in its simple beauty, like a lullaby or a song from his childhood.

His instincts screamed at him that this was all wrong. He edged around the side of the house, keeping his sightlines clear, knowing that at any moment, he could be ambushed.   
Her back was turned towards him, seated in a chair on the porch. She was dressed in a blue woollen tunic and dark trousers, her hair knotted at the base of her neck. He remembered every detail, and knew that he moment she turned, her face would be identical to the holopic he had been shown.

He saw one hand clutching a piece of cloth, and the other tugging a length of thread from a needle…

“Don’t move.”

His weapon was drawn and pointed at the back of her neck before she could draw a breath. He could feel the tension, the primal fear in her body. A vein pulsed in her forehead and her hands were frozen in position, just where he wanted them.

“You know why I’m here.”

“I’m…”

“Don’t talk.” Blue had told him that she could charm snakes with her voice. That was how she managed to extract their poison. Her words were like honey, but were as deadly as her needles. 

“Stand up and drop what you’re holding.”

She instantly obeyed him.

He unclipped the pair of iron manacles from his belt in a practiced move. “Put these on.”

This was all going smoothly. His quarry was trussed up and ready to be escorted to his ship. Something did not feel right about all of it. 

The door squeaked open and a portly old man waddled out. “Oma?” His face was kind, but he reacted with horror at the sight in front of the armoured bounty hunter.

The Mandalorian watched as the man’s hand moved back inside the house. Immediately, his brain registered the unmistakeable flash of sunlight bouncing off metal. His sidearm was in his hand and instantly the man fell back, mortally wounded. 

The woman gasped, but did not react as he dragged her away. He felt nothing for the man; as a bounty hunter, he knew his mission. He knew the dangers involved, and he knew the rewards. If there was any guilt to be felt, that would come later. 

Now, he had to get the package back to his ship safely, and she appeared to be coming a bit too quietly for his liking. He couldn’t help wondering what she had up her sleeve.

“Where…?”

The rest of the sentence was a breathy whisper, but the Mandalorian understood her. “We’re going off-world.”

“Off-world? I haven’t been off-world in years. Not since…”

“Shut up.” He did not like to hear her speak. Something told him that she would try to deceive him, to woo him with words. Years? How absurd. Her last hit was months ago – that politician’s wife on Kantu. Unless… No, there was no mistake. Not on his end, in any case.

The Razor Crest was sitting right where he had left it. There was nothing he wanted more than to be out of atmo and free of this shitty planet. The oddly submissive girl in his custody was not doing his nerves any favours either.

As soon as the loading hatch closed, he breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the woman.

“Listen, Oma. We have a long way to go, and I don’t like putting people on ice. Saves on power. So, are you going to behave?” It was a long speech from him, but he felt the need to communicate with her. For some reason, it seemed that finesse was preferable to force.

She looked at him, uncomprehending, then nodded. He escorted her to one of the cells and removed her shackles. 

“Buckle up,” he advised her. It was bound to be a bumpy ride, and he didn’t want to be held responsible for damaged goods.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For killing Wim Shretyl. I understand that you’re my new master, or you’re taking me to sell me to my new master. But thank you. He wasn’t kind.”

The Mandalorian felt a roiling sickness deep down inside. It was like he had just stepped of the edge of a height, wandering in a country he didn’t recognise. Something had gone very wrong here.

“But you’re Oma Shretyl, right?” he said. This could well be a trap, but it wasn’t any kind he recognised.

“His daughter’s name was Oma. Or his granddaughter, I don’t remember. He called me that since he bought me. I don’t remember my real name.”

He slammed the door and raced to the cockpit. 

The Child was awake and happy to see him. “Mando!” he squealed. It was his favourite and only word.

The Mandalorian sat down and punched in the launch sequence, engaged the thrusters and took off. His heart was pounding, and he could feel cold sweat racing down the back of his neck. He was unnerved, and he was angry. 

As soon as he cleared atmo, he felt the icy stab of betrayal. He relied upon good information to do his job, that was why the Guild existed. He knew he had made a mistake. Trusting Blue was foolish, potentially catastrophic. Instead of a deadly killer for hire, he had captured a bewildered innocent. 

He set his course for Shraed Delta and placed the ship on autopilot. He needed sleep, but what he wanted more than anything was information.   
“Hey, Kid.” He gave the Child a friendly pat and went into the kitchen. The sleeping pod followed him about as he pulled out packets of dried vegetables and stock and prepared two bowls of instant soup. When they were both fed and he had taken a nap, his mind felt a bit clearer. 

There was a tiredness inside him that even sleep could not cure. He felt weary inside, as if all that was holding him up was the armour and helmet which was like a second skin to him.   
As soon as this job was done, he would take a long holiday, go somewhere quiet. He might ask Cara to take the kid for a few days, spend some time in that brothel in Lados. Quirada was his favourite girl there. She was blind, and she was a great listener. Sometimes, all they would do was talk. 

He was afraid of talking to the woman in his cell, of what she might say. Part of him still believed that he was in the right, that she was a liar and a killer. A more dominant part suspected that he was tangled up in something he didn’t understand. 

He wanted to know. He demanded a reckoning. Blue would have a lot to answer for when he reached Shraed Delta.

* * *

The seven moons around Shraed Delta cast shadows on its surface, and caused its oceans to behave erratically around their waxings and wanings. Even in the depths of night, the entire planet was illuminated by eerie moonlight. Its inhabitants were a brutal, superstitious lot, given to dark forebodings about the sea, on which they depended for their food and livelihoods. 

The Mandalorian landed at high noon, close to the Golden Crescent, the biggest city on Shraed Delta’s only habitable continent. He was eager to get this whole mess sorted, to get paid and move on. This job was proving to be more trouble than the pay was worth.

His ship was miles away in one location with the Child safely inside, and the girl was in another. He had sent a comms message to Blue, insisting they meet in the open, by themselves. No surprises. Of course, he was barely surprised when Blue showed up flanked by a small posse of armed men. 

There was a smug look about Blue that the Mandalorian did not like.

“Din Djarin!” His small, high-pitched voice almost comical in its confidence. “I’m guessing you have the goods?”

“I do, and I’ll release her once you’ve answered my questions.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal, Mandalorian,” Blue chuckled.

“The deal changed when you lied to me.” A mask hid a great many things. It allowed him to retain his equilibrium in the face of those who sought to throw him off-balance. Even though he was unnerved – his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of danger – to the world, he might as well have been made of stone. “Clever thing about being a bounty hunter. I’ve made connections over the years – connections that gave me information about the Shadow and Oma Shretyl.”

His opponent’s expression changed to one of irritation. The Mandalorian felt the armed men surrounding Blue growing more tense, ready for action.

“Who is the girl?” he asked. “What do you want with her?”

“She is not your concern. Just give us her location and we’ll tell you where your payment is.”

The Mandalorian did not move a muscle. “If you went to this much trouble…”

The ground rumbled. It grew louder, and the Mandalorian recognised the unmistakable sound of an approaching transporter. It had the look of an old Imperial vehicle that had been made over for stealth and speed. It came to a smooth stop and the side doors swung open. 

He holstered his weapon, knowing in that moment that he didn’t stand a chance. A troop of armed forces emerged and spread out, almost encircling him. It took a moment to realise that they were all women.

At the head of the group was a silver-haired woman. She was beautiful in the way that older women sometimes were – her features honed and accentuated by time. The Leader smiled and motioned for Blue and his men to stand down.

“Greetings, Mandalorian. Unlike your contact here, I suspected that you were no common bounty hunter from the start. I knew you would not accept Blue’s poorly-sketched cover story about the Shadow. I take it you’ve come to realise the importance of the woman to us?”

The Mandalorian nodded impassively. He had no idea what he was caught up in, but was counting on his hunch that this woman was not looking for violence.

“Good.” She pulled a heavy purse from her cloak and tossed it at his feet. “It’s all there – count it.”

“I believe you.”

The Leader took two steps forward. “Now that you have no reason to keep her location from us…” She paused meaningfully. “We can, of course, get the information from you in other ways.”

“I need to know what this is about. And that you won’t… hurt the girl.” He reacted in surprise to his own words. Before the Child came into his life, he would never have thought twice about the welfare of his quarry. He was getting soft.

A bubbling laugh came from the Leader’s lips. “My dear man, if we had wanted her dead, we could have hired any common assassin. A hundred thugs from Falcon could have been bribed, for that matter.”

“Then?” The word hung in the air.

“Mandalorian… Din… Which do you prefer?”

He shrugged.

“This woman and her safety are more important than you can possibly imagine. I think, as one of your creed, you might understand that?”

Her words sent a strange flood of emotions through the Mandalorian. Her tone seemed inviting, almost homely.

“I’ll give you her location, but I want to know what this is about.”

The Leader smiled once more. “That you will, my friend.”


End file.
